


Tissaia Undone

by SQendgame



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Sex, Dominant Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SQendgame/pseuds/SQendgame
Summary: Honestly this is basically Yennefer finally subduing Tissaia and fulfilling her long due fantasies about the Rectoress of Aretuza. However this could be applied to virtually every f/f ship you could possibly want.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 17
Kudos: 131





	Tissaia Undone

**Author's Note:**

> This is smut, pure and simple smut.   
> I do not own the characters or the show and this has 0 plot.   
> Yennefer is mad at Tissaia, Yennefer goes at it.

Her face is pressed against the wall, legs spread apart as an invite and this time I don't worry myself about her comfort or how I may be pressing my fingers a bit too tight around her throat. I feel her pulse against my palm and I can't fight the urge to squeeze a second too long, an inch too far. She gasps – my breath catches in my throat. I can feel her ass against me as I press my lips against the back of her neck, her skin is hot as I let my tongue travel from her neck to her shoulder. The zipper of her dress is easier to undone than I had anticipated or perhaps my eagerness makes it hard to notice otherwise. There's no point in taking her dress off and even if there was I couldn't bring myself to give her room enough to get herself out of it. All I need is her back exposed to me and her legs parted obediently waiting. Her breath becomes louder to my ears as I kiss her shoulder blade before biting down so hard it could easily draw blood – I don't notice if it does nor do I pay it any mind.

There are no promises or words of love just my teeth claiming her former unmarked skin, my leg against her center and that beautiful face finally shoved against a hopefully very cold marble wall. I can feel her throbbing against my knee and I can finally see the appeal of a dress when smartly taken advantage of.

I taste every single inch of flesh I can get my mouth on without moving, I'm hungry and angry in the same measure so I'm neither careful nor gentle and between her moans I don't think she minds it. My mouth finds her neck once more just before I slip my hand beneath her dress finally taking on the invitation made by those beautiful legs. When my fingers finally find her core she is just as wet as I had imagined and they enter her so swiftly it's almost laughable and yet I am not laughing.

My fingers dive deeper into her, curling and exploring at will, she tries to turn around but I hold her in place, I can't look into her eyes right now, not yet not until I can forget why I was so mad at her and maybe even after I do. I push a bit more as if every inch I can dive further into her will somehow fix whatever is that is broken inside me and between us. Her moans become loud and desperate either from pleasure or pain, hopefully both and I lose any control I had still managed to hold onto.

Somehow even with the scarce amount of space I spare her she manages to roll her tights against my hand in a devious cadence, like waves crashing down stubbornly against my arm two opposite forces going for similar goals – she wants release and I want her undone.

She throws her head back against my shoulder as she rides my fingers with complete abandonment the hand I kept around her neck loosens as its fingers find her lips, lips she parts slowly before her tongue greets my fingertips and I shudder not used to her submission.

Even having her like this doesn't seem enough, the hunger only grows with each thrust and the thought of consuming her takes over me.

I turn her around at last and when her eyes find me she's both surprised and frozen in anticipation. Her lips start moving but before she manages to utter a word I'm on my knees, one of her legs is on my shoulder and I finally have a taste of her. She's the definition of bittersweet and I'm immediately addicted – her flavor is the only thing she needs to make me surrender to her, all thoughts of dominance gone from my mind. The more I taste the more insatiable I get and I'm afraid the contradiction will eventually drive me crazy. Her fingers pull at my hair, her grip painful but so incredibly welcomed. My tongue finds her better hidden spots but it never stops, never slows and never ceases to wander. One hand becomes two and my face is being roughly held in place as if I would want to move. I can feel her legs trembling and as if that wasn't enough evidence, my dripping chin tells me her climax is close. Her hips thrust against my face and I hold her in place with both hands hard enough that I'm sure she will be able to see my fingertips on her skin in the morning. When she finally explodes around my tongue I notice her legs giving in but I'm still holding her and that keeps her up against the wall long enough for me to make sure I won't forget soon the way she tastes.

Once it's over and I find myself standing again I allow myself to look at her and the sight alone could be enough to send me over the edge, she's panting back against the wall, dress yanked around her tights and five fingers beautifully marked on her neck. Eyes closed I don't even know if she's aware of me staring, or if she even cares but I won't give her the chance in a second I have my lips pressed against her forehead and in the next I'm walking out the door.

She's undone and I'm irremediably doomed.


End file.
